There is so much light in my little one... so much love and kindness, humor and generosity. More than I ever could have dreamed or hoped to have in a child. I have to remind myself it's only been three months since we met, since we came home because at times... she seems to really understand, what I say, what we do... but the reality is, she still doesn't understand so much. It's all so new, everything. The pressure of the change, the stress, the confusion and most of all the fear... it all gets to her. Sometimes, it's every night... occasionally, it hits during the day. The most painful part to watch is the shame and the blame... she assumes so much of her loss on herself and she acts out, angry and frustrated, testing and pushing. One example, one of the most heartbreaking to watch started out simply enough. She was acting out, getting in my face and screaming no when I was asking her to get ready for bed. Typical childhood behavior. She kept pushing and shouting until in my frustration I did exactly what I had most likely read NOT to do in one of my many adoption books. I grabbed a new pair of sneakers that I had given her earlier that night (Dora sneakers... gorgeous, shiny, pink and white, perfect little girl Dora sneakers) and I suggested that we should put them away until she could behave and be nicer. Wrong move. Kajal just shut down. She got all quiet and instead of doing what any healthy, well grounded child would do.. like, scream and cry, fight for what she wanted. She picked up the sneakers quietly, nodding her head. She put them back in their box and walked them to my bedroom. I asked her where she was going and she said she was giving them back to me. That I was right and she was didn't want the sneakers. She couldn't have them, was what she was saying but what I was seeing on her face was that she felt she didn't deserve them. I can't tell you how much I wanted her to fight for them, to tell me why she did in fact deserve them. But she wanted no part of them. In her eyes you could see, she felt she wasn't good enough for them. I sat down and pulled her onto my knee, I hugged her and reminded her that I love her... that no matter what she does and what she says, sad, mad, angry or glad... I love her. She was so shut down, emotionally, I could see her slipping further and further into herself. She went to bed and as she curled in my arms she said, very softly. 'Me bad, Mommy good, me go back to India'. I kept telling her how much I loved her, that she was never going back, that she was good... really good and no matter how much I got mad, or she did things that were wrong or difficult she was still good. She told me that she was bad in India and she was bad now and no matter what I said, I couldn't reach her. As I told her I loved her, she shook her head in denial. I grabbed every adoption book I could find and lying there beside her, I read, desperatedly seeking some kind of magic answer. There it was in black and white... what I'd read months ago and forgot. Taking things away from a post institutionalized/abandoned child is exactly the wrong thing to do. It reinforces to the child what they already believe, that they aren't good enough, aren't worthy of good things... aren't worthy of love. My heart about burst... look what I'd done to my child, reinforced her self hatred... her shame. I kept hugging her and whispering words of love but she didn't even cry, she just lay there quietly. I told her I made a mistake that I shouldn't have taken away the sneakers, I should have found another way to discipline her. Of course, she didn't understand most of what I was saying. I grabbed another book, read on until I came to a chapter suggesting that you tell a child you don't like what they're doing, the action vs. the child, to clarify it in a way they might understand. I tried it, 'Kajal, I didn't like what you were doing, that you were yelling at me... " Kajal looked even more shattered if it was possible "Mommy doesn't like Kajal" she asked. Ahhhhh! I practically threw the book across the room. I just kept holding her and telling her that I loved her, that I liked her.... I sang to her but the tears started falling and she fell asleep, just shaking her head, not believing my words of love.

Lately, it seems the evenings are still the toughest. She's tired but afraid to go to sleep. One minute she's clinging to me and asking for a HUGE hug (which she gets, then laughs and says to me 'oh, that's good') the next, she's glaring in my face shouting NO! or kicking me, yelling and lashing out... her mood swings are intense and happen so quickly I don't see them coming, It happens primarily at night... I know she's tired and still scared and that the testing is something very typical, especially for a child who has expressed over and over that she is afraid I'll be sending her back. Worse, she just seems to expect it. Every time she does something wrong, acts out and I have to tell her to stop or stand up to her she goes from mad to sad, crying in tantrums to practically disassociating in numbness. I'm tired. I watch her sleep most nights, wondering where she's been, what she's been through. I wonder about the mother that left her, wonder endlessly how it happened.. where, did she just walk away, did she say good bye, was Kajal taken from her. Did she say she'd back and never came back, leaving my little one sitting somewhere, hungry and scared, wondering. I wonder what scars lurk in this child's heart and mind that leave her looking so hopeless and lost at times.

I know I haven't handled every situation right, some situations I've handled horribly wrong. I pray for guidence and patience, all the time. I pray that say or do the right thing... that somehow I teach this child how to behave with kindness and respect of others while at the same time, helping her to know that she is a child of value, a person capable of anything and worthy of everything. Most of all, I pray that I do, somehow, show her that she can count on me. That I do love her... and where I am, will always be... her home.

After attending Kajal's Valentines dance at her school, we had to head to the Doctors for another visit, another shot. She screamed and cried and pushed me away.... the look she gave me was one of such distrust, such disappointment and betrayal. As most parents do, I bribed her before we went in with the promise of stickers from the doctors collection. Her reaction was so harsh the nurses went running after giving her, her shot. As we walked down the corridor away from the doctors office, Kajal turned to me and very sullenly asked 'where are my stickers'

Ah, I thought, there is hope